


Start Somewhere

by fallenrose24



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-06 22:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenrose24/pseuds/fallenrose24
Summary: (Pre-canon + ch 3 spoilers) Queen Raqura invites Emperor Niall to Fonsa Myma after he assumes the throne. Mòrag and Brighid journey on ahead of him and run into a familiar Urayan mercenary.





	Start Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Another roadtrip phone fic! It can be read as a companion story to my most recent post, Candles to Burn. Mòrag's backstory follows from that fic.
> 
> Hints of established Moraghid in here, but the focus is mainly on Mòrag and Vandham.
> 
> I liked Vandham and thought it would have been neat to see him and Mòrag interact in the party given the tension between their nations. Alas, that never happened. So, this is my take on how the two of them could have met. Vandham's back story is loosely based on NPC and post-battle dialogue.

The letter arrived a few weeks after Niall ascended to the throne. A delegation, waving the banner of the Urayan royal family, docked at the Hardhaigh Port. A scroll was handed off to an Ardainian courier with the request that it be given directly to the Emperor. They would wait on their Titan vessel for his written reply. 

Niall's eyes widened as he read the elegant script. Without looking up, he addressed the messenger who was still bowed at his feet. 

"Get me the Special Inquisitor." 

"Majesty? I believe she is still in the midst of her morning training with Lady Brighid." 

"Interrupt them." His young eyes steeled with confident authority. "I request her presence - immediately. Brighid, too. Refrain from speaking to the Urayan delegation until I say otherwise." 

"Yes, sire. Right away." 

Niall returned to the scroll as the courier scampered out of the throne room. He could feel the prickling of a prolonged stare boring into his back. With a sigh, the boy turned and met the calm, yet scrutinizing gaze of his stoic Blade. 

"Are you alright, Your Majesty?" 

"Yes, Aegaeon." He handed the scroll over to his loyal companion. "I just wish to know Mòrag's thoughts on this matter." 

The Blade merely nodded his head as he read the script over. 

The comfortable silence that befell them was short-lived – cut off by the sounding of the steam lock on the elevator below. Niall smiled. That was quicker than he was expecting. His sister was nothing if not steadfast in her loyalty. She proved time and time again that she harbored no ill will against him for standing at the helm of the Empire… though she arguably had every reason to. Instead, she had volunteered to serve as his shield. That had been his greatest comfort since taking the throne so suddenly. 

A smile stretched across his face as he watched his sister approach in full uniform, Blade in tow. He was still getting used to seeing her in the navy coattails and brass armor. Such a harsh and intimidating exterior for a woman he had grown up only knowing as warm and loving. 

Mὸrag placed a hand over her heart and bowed her head as Brighid followed in a deep curtsy. 

“You wished to see me, Your Majesty?” 

“Yes, I apologize for interrupting your morning routine, Mὸrag… Brighid.” 

The Inquisitor straightened. “Not at all. We are at your service whenever Your Majesty sees fit.” 

“Indeed. Our training can continue at a later time. Is there something the matter?” Brighid turned an inquisitive gaze to Aegaeon. 

The silent water Blade moved forward and handed Mὸrag the scroll. 

“An Urayan delegation arrived this morning. They brought this to His Majesty and are stationed at Hardhaigh Port awaiting his answer.” 

Brighid moved closer, peering over her Driver’s shoulder at the writing spread across the page. Her attention was immediately drawn to the insignia of Uraya's Selosia House.

"An invitation from Queen Raqura?"

Mòrag peered over at her Blade and nodded.

"It appears so." She handed the scroll back to Aegaeon. "Not unexpected. She is the leader of the second largest nation in Alrest and her most strained political relationship has just changed leadership."

Niall hummed thoughtfully. "Frankly, I'm a bit surprised she reached out. I can't recall much contact between us and Uraya in my lifetime."

A flash of red blanketed Mòrag's eyes, just brief enough that only her Blade noticed. Brighid subtly brushed a calming hand across her Driver's back.

"Your Majesty was just a child when whatever ties we had were severed."

Niall's eyes widened as the sound of his father's voice filled his ear, reminding him of Lord Eandraig's death at Urayan hands.

"I apologize, Mòrag. I did not mean to-"

"No need, Your Majesty. Shall we return to the matter at hand?"

The Emperor's gaze shifted to Brighid briefly, but the subtle shake of the Blade's head snuffed out his argument.

"Very well." He stepped closer to Mòrag. "An invitation to meet Queen Raqura in Fonsa Myma is not something I intend to accept without the input of my Special Inquisitor. You are my retainer, afterall."

Mòrag put a fist under her chin in thought. "I suspect this is a power play. Chairman Bana and delegations of village leaders from Gormott and Leftheria have all come to you. Only the Praetor has requested you travel for an audience, but that is par for the course with Indol."

"You believe she's making a statement?" Brighid cocked an eyebrow.

"I do. Permission to speak freely, Your Majesty?"

Niall and Aegaeon exchanged a curious glance. "Of course, Mòrag."

"To the Ardainian Empire, there is no question of your leadership. Youthful Emperors are not uncommon in our history. However, to the other nations of Alrest, your age could easily be misconstrued for weakness."

"Inviting me to an enemy capitol is Queen Raqura's attempt to assert dominance."

"That is how I would interpret this, yes." Mòrag scowled. "She was forced into submission by His late Majesty. I assume she believes she can burrow out from under those restrictions by manipulating you. Typical Urayan egotism."

Niall sighed as he ran a gloved hand over his face. "You suggest I decline?"

"On the contrary." Mòrag smirked. "You should accept. Let it be made clear that, even on her own Titan, you are the stronger power. You will not be baited by her provocation."

"I agree." Aegaeon stepped forward. "Decline and she can misconstrue your actions to curry favor with other nations."

"Even so, we can't just let His Majesty enter enemy territory. Who's to say this isn't a trap? Even if Queen Raqura doesn't sanction an attack, Fonsa Myma is swarming with Urayan militants and mercenaries." Brighid placed a hand on her Driver's arm. "It would only take one weak mind to start a war."

Brighid had a point. Mòrag stared at her Blade thoughtfully as she tried to reason out a solution. When an idea struck, she smiled and fell into a shallow bow before her brother.

"Your Majesty, I suggest you allow me to mobilize a platoon of the Caraig Special Guard Unit. We will travel to Fonsa Myma ahead of you and ensure the safety of your arrival. Should we detect any hint of a threat, you will be well within your right to decline the invitation without international fallout."

Niall paused for a moment, a part of him unsettled by the idea of deliberately sending his sister to a nation she had a deep-seeded reason to hate. While he was tempted to decline her request, the determination coating her eyes made him reconsider. She was standing before him as his Special Inquisitor, not his sister... he needed to respect that.

"Very well, I will draft your papers and order a ship be readied while you select your men." The Emperor let a sly smile tug at his lips. "Plan to leave after nightfall as to not alert the Urayan delegation. I'll wait until you've arrived before informing them. There's no need to give them any opportunity to hide potential dangers if they know you're coming."

Mòrag beemed back at him with pride. "Very astute, Your Majesty. I'll send word when we've docked."

"Be careful, dear sister."

The young Emperor sent a final silent plea to Brighid before dismissing them. He hoped the Blade would look after his only living relative.

\---

Mòrag kept to herself for the majority of the voyage. If she wasn't sitting silently on her throne-like chair on the Bridge, she was gazing pensively out the window in her quarters. The soldiers were wise enough to leave their commanding officer be, but Brighid was never one to accept Mòrag's stubborness.

The Blade sat down in front of her Driver, resting a tray on a nearby table.

"You need to eat, Lady Mòrag."

The Ardainian barely acknowledged her.

"You can at least drink the Indoline tea I made you." Brighid raised a hand when Mòrag moved to protest. "There's no point in pretending you're not fond of it. Just drink it and thank me."

A smile tugged at Mòrag's lips. "Very well, Brighid. Thank you."

Burning hands reached out and cradled a gloved palm. "You're not looking forward to this mission, are you?"

Mòrag raised her brow in question.

"I just assumed with what happened with your father-"

The Inquisitor scoffed. "The Urayans have long since paid for that crime. Our discovery of Aeshma is proof enough."

"For murdering your father?"

"Brighid, do you mean to ignite my hatred of them or help me suppress it?"

The Blade shook her head. "You know burying it serves no purpose."

"No, but while I normally appreciate your concern, it is unwarranted here."

"Is that right?"

Mòrag frowned. "My role in this mission is to ensure His Majesty's safety. Do you honestly believe I would serve my own vendetta instead?"

"Lady Mòrag-"

They were interrupt by the sound of heavy boots slapping against the metal flooring. A lieutenant stood at attention, waiting to be called upon.

"Speak."

"Forgive the intrusion, Inquisitor, but the Urayan Titan is in our sights."

Mòrag stood. "Very well. I will join you on the Bridge."

Brighid stared after her Driver's retreating form, frowning when she noticed the untouched tea still resting on the table beside her.

\---

Mòrag stepped off the boat once it had docked at the Fonsa Myma port. She was not surprised to see a swarm of Urayan militants immediately approach, muttering hushed words about the "Flambringer's" unannounced visit. The captain of the troop eventually stepped forward and merely outstretched a hand.

With a pointed stare, Mòrag handed over the envoy documents. "See to it that Queen Raqura be made aware of our presence. We are here to ensure the safety of His Majesty, Emperor Niall's impending visit."

The soldier pounded a fist against his breast plate. "I'll hand this to her myself, but you are to remain on your boat until I return. Your kind is not welcome in our city without the proper approvals."

Mòrag folded her arms behind her back, staring down at the man through the slats in her metal visor. "Then do not test my patience."

Before tensions could escalate, Brighid pulled subtly at her Driver's arm and escorted her back onto the ship.

Within the hour, the soldier had returned with the Queen's signature. They were free to roam for the day, but if any act of aggression was committed they would all be arrested. It was a harsh restriction, but Mórag appeared unphased. Instead she folded the documents and stuffed them into her pants pocket before addressing her men.

"You are to remain in pairs at all times. Investigate your assigned areas of the city, interview citizens if you must. We will meet back here at sun down to form our assessment." Mòrag steeled her voice. "Do not engage in any form of aggression. If you are provoked, walk away. We are not here to start a war."

The soldiers bowed in acceptance before disbanding, leaving the Inquisitor alone with her Blade.

Brighid's attention was drawn by the glow of the Saffronia trees in the distance. A look of awe was spread across her face as she took in the vibrant colors all around. Uraya was undeniably beautiful.

"Brighid?"

The Blade turned with a smile. "Have you ever been here before?"

"To Fonsa Myma? No, I have not."

She reached for her Driver's hand, brushing her thumb over gloved knuckles. "Hard to deny the beauty of this place."

Mòrag sighed as she gazed out over the expansive view from the port. "I suppose it's a shame this may be our only visit here."

"You don't believe the rift will ever be closed?"

"That is up to His Majesty." Mòrag let her hand fall away. "Come, let's make our way into the city proper."

The market they soon found themselves in was bustling with activity. Shop owners and customers haggled loudly while advertisers tried to hussle those wandering by into various stores. None dared approach the two Adrainians, Mòrag's uniform and Brighid's appearance made it all too obvious who they were. Still, despite essentially being ignored, Brighid was captivated by the scene. While she kept a keen eye on each shop, looking and listening for any warning signs, she took some time to notice the goods being sold.

"Lady Mòrag?" The Inquisitor stopped. "After we've cleared this area, would you be willing to... just for a minute..."

Mòrag put on a stern face. "Are you asking if you can be allowed to invest in the economy of a nation which we are on the precipice of war with?"

Brighid's brow rose and she lifted a hand over her Core Crystal. "Of course not, Lady Mòrag... I merely-"

Her apology was cut short as Mòrag's face broke out into hushed laughter. The Blade's brow furrowed in frustration.

"Have I ever told you that you have no sense of humor?"

That only served to make Mòrag laugh even harder and cover her mouth to muffle the sound. "Come now, Brighid..."

The Blade huffed, smacking her Driver's collarbone. A soothing hand rubbed over her exposed back in response. The nearly patronizing gesture would have annoyed her further had it not made her heart race. She was quite useless when Mòrag was openly affectionate... and the Ardainian knew it, too.

"Help!!"

A young Urayan boy pushed between them as he scrambled into an alley. Mòrag surveyed the crowd quickly, glaring at how the market seemed to only stop for a second before resuming it's previous activity. Had these people no empathy?

"Brighid!"

Mòrag called back to her Blade before taking off after the boy. She could hear him continue to shout, his cries mixing with Brighid calling for her to wait. The warning fell on deaf ears. Her rage against these people had boiled over by their inaction.

Rounding a corner, she nearly tripped as her boot was submerged in a deep puddle. She quickly recovered, pulling herself up and skidding forward. The boy was at the end of the alley, facing a wall of brick.

"Boy?" Mòrag approached slowly, whip-swords drawn. "Are you alright?"

The young Urayan turned and smirked before sticking his tongue out and spitting at her.

"What?"

A jolt ran through her body as she felt the familiar ether flow within her veins suddenly cut off. Water splashed behind her and a painful shout echoed in a familiar voice. She spun around and felt her heart drop into her gut at what was before her.

Brighid was on her knees, drenched in a pool of water, her face pressed down against the liquid. A decorative lance kept her pinned at the back of her neck, held by a female Blade with bubble-like buns in her hair and an eyepatch. The man beside her, clearly the Blade's Driver, had Brighid's hands held behind her back.

Mòrag made to lunge forward, ready to run a sword through the man's sternum when she felt the burn of ice against her neck.

"Now, now, I wouldn't go makin' any foolish movements."

The accent was thick. 

Urayan.

"Turn around nice 'n slow."

Mòrag met Brighid's gaze before she bowed her head and obeyed. The boy was gone and in his place was a man taunting her. His skin was a sickly shade of green and he was dressed in the type of makeshift armor she had seen on Urayan mercenaries wandering Argentum. He brandished an ice katana in her face, which must have belonged to the diminutive Blade at his side. Ice shards decorated her body and one even jutted out of an eye patch that appeared to match the Blade holding Brighid.

Two Urayan Drivers? Their nation was known for their low resonance rate with Core Crystals... and yet these two were not soldiers? Who were these people?

"Well look at this, Theory." The man let out a bark of a laugh. "Seems like we caught a big fish this time. An Ardainian dog and her pretty Blade. Didn't think one of you lot would go chasin' after an Urayan street kid."

Mòrag tightened her grip on the hilts of her swords. "You underestimate the heart of my people... perhaps you're not familiar with what humanity looks like."

The ice katana pressed against her chin, pushing her head to the left. Mòrag refused refused to cringe against the pain of the deep chill that sank into her skin.

"I think I like that attitude of yours. That'll make shutting you up even sweeter."

"Waldemar!" Mòrag could hear Brighid struggle as the Driver behind her shouted. "Don't you recognize her? She's that Inquisitor thing. The boy Emperor's lap dog."

The man - Waldemar - pulled back the tip of his weapon. "Ha! Well I'll be damned. Can't miss that ridiculous uniform. And here I thought the mighty Empire was smarter than puttin' a kid and a woman in charge."

"Ardainian idiots!"

The two men howled in laughter as Mòrag gritted her teeth. She took a step forward only to have the ice weapon pressed against her chest.

"Ah-ah-ah, you stay put."

Damn it all.

"If she's the Flamebringer, this must be the Jewel of the Empire." The unnamed man, pressed Brighid down further into the pool of water.

Mòrag cast a glance over her high collar, her blood boiling at the sight her Blade being manhandled so callously.

"Let her go." She turned her attention back to Waldemar. "If it's a fight you seek, let her go and see if you can best me."

The mercenary shook his head and spat to the side. "You think I'm stupid or something? I'm not doing this to prove anything. I just want that Blade of yours. Doesn't matter to me if the fight's fair. Way I see it, you're overpowered here, so why don't you just surrender? I'll make it nice and painless, then I'll take her Core Crystal and be on my way."

"I don't believe in surrender!" Mòrag jumped back and immediately lashed a whip forward.

"Fine by me!"

Waldemar easily deflected the unlit weapon and moved in to strike. They parried back and forth until Mòrag felt her right hand sting with a chill. She doged his overhead attack and kicked him to the side as she cradled her arm. What in Alrest? Looking down, she saw her whip sword was frosted over. Damn that Blade! Quickly, she tossed the weapon into a puddle behind her, hoping it would thaw as she switched to single-handed combat.

The man was a talented fighter, but Mórag knew she could have easily overpowered him already had he been fighting fair. His only advantage was his Blade...

She needed hers.

With another forceful deflection, she pushed the man back and immediately spun. Her whip lashed out toward the other Driver, who quickly let go of Brighid in order to roll out of the way.

It all happened so quickly.

The bubble-like Blade lifted the lance just a few centimeters, distracted by her Driver. It was enough for Brighid to make a move. She elbowed her captor in the gut, stumbling as she attempted to stand against the water sucking ether from her body. Mórag ducked down to pick up the iced whip, but just as she made to throw it to Brighid, her skin of her back tore and her body was overcome by a bone-shattering chill.

Mòrag fell to the ground, whip-swords skittering against the cobbled street. The ice Blade - Theory - dug a heel into the bloody wound on her back and brandished her katana against the back of her neck.

"Lady Mòrag!!"

"Hold her back, Praxis!"

The water Blade was on her feet, shoving Brighid against the wall with her lance.

"I've got her, dear Theory." The smirk she wore made Brighid nauseous. "Finish her Driver off!"

Mòrag looked up, her amber eyes catching Brighid's terrified gaze. She mouthed out words, but her lips were obscured by the gravel. From the look in her eyes... Brighid could clearly read "I love you" and "I'm sorry". Her heart shattered as the ice Blade raised her weapon.

A cyclone of wind tore through the alley, tossing them all aside.

Brighid gasped as she tired to push herself up against the gusts. She could barely make out the blue glow of the attacking Blades pressed up against distant walls with their Drivers. A dark lump was on the ground before her. Mòrag. Dragging herself along the cobbled path with her elbows, Brighid inched her way closer to the injured woman. She hissed each time her crystalline flames dimmed against the puddles of water, but she pushed on. Finally, she made it to Mòrag's side and threw herself over the woman's back to shield her from the assault.

It felt like eons had passed before the wind finally stopped. Brighid looked up as what appeared to be talons touched down on the rocks in front of her. Her hidden gaze traveled on, taking in the vibrant feathers of the massive bird brandishing twin scythes that glowed a familiar blue. It was a Blade...

"I think you just about overstayed yer welcome."

Brighid turned in the direcrion of the rough baritone. To her side was a large, dark-skinned man. His body was riddled with scars, but the pebbling on the side of his face made it obvious he, too, was Urayan. ...but he was helping them?

"Shit!" Waldemar pushed himself off the wall. "Where the Hell did you come from, eh?"

The scarred man crossed his arms. "Doesn't matter. Either pick up yer weapon or get outta here. Either way, yer done tryin' to start a war with these two."

Waldemar scoffed and spat on the ground. "Whatever. There are plenty of other Blades to sell. Let's move!"

Brighid watched on in shock as the two Drivers and Blades raced down a perpendicular alley. That was it? One windstorm and a taunt from him and they were done? Who was this man?

A clawed hand came into her view.

"Need a lift?"

The fire Blade flinched away, tightening her protective hold on her Driver. The bird Blade merely cocked its head.

"Seems she doesn't trust us, Vandham."

Vandham... so that was the large Driver's name?

A deep laugh bellowed from the approaching man. "I dont blame her. Two Urayans try to kill you, then another one saves the day... pretty screwed up town we've got 'ere."

The man - Vandham - knelt down before her. 

"I get it. Our nations are always at each other's throats, so you've got every reason not to trust me, but it seems like you've only got two options 'ere." He gestured to Mòrag who had been knocked out. "Your Driver's got a pretty nasty cut there - a slash from an ice Blade is no laughin' matter. You can either come with me and I can take her to someone who can heal her, or you waste time tryin' to find your soldiers and drag her back to the port before she bleeds out. Pretty sure no one else out there is gonna help you much."

Brighid looked down and brushed stray hair away from Mòrag's face. Her lips had turned an alarming shade of blue from the deep chill coursing through her blood. There was really only one choice...

With a sigh, Brighid turned back to the Urayan. "Fine, but I'll be the one to carry her."

Vandham laughed as he rose to his full height and reached down a hand, helping the fire Blade up. "Fine by me. I won't say no to you luggin' around the dead weight. The name's Vandham, by the way. And this here is-"

"Roc, pleased to meet you." The bird bowed with a flourish before handing his weapons back to his Driver and scooping up Mòrag's fallen hat.

"Brighid." She bent down and gingerly cradled her wounded companion against her chest. "And my Driver is Mòrag Ladair."

"The Special Inquisitor and the Jewel of the Empire..." Vandham shook his head with a chuckle. "No wonder those arseholes were after ya. Bastards never change. Come on now, ol' man Cole is gonna throw a fit when we sees what strays we dragged in today."

\---

Mòrag awoke to the feel of soothing fingers running through her hair. Before opening her eyes, she tried to take stock as the cobwebs of unconsciousness began to fade. Clearly, she was still alive, though she had no recollection of how she survived. Ice... and wind. That's all. Her hat was missing, tight bun undone, and she was lying on her stomach. It felt like something was wrapped taut across her back. A bandage? The feel of that Blade's weapon slicing through her skin flashed in her mind and sent a chill over her body.

"Lady Mòrag?"

Brighid!

The Ardainian opened her eyes and immediately tried to sit up. Warm arms quickly grabbed her and helped her twist around so she could lean back against a wall.

"Easy... the poltice on your wound is fast acting, but you shouldn't push it." Brighid brushed a hand along the bang crossing over Mòrag's nose. "I've tried to keep you warm to soothe the ice sting."

Mòrag blinked, still trying to absorb the fact that she was alive. Only a part of her registered Brighid buttoning the front of her coat. She opened her mouth to ask what happened, but was abruptly cut off when the door to the room opened. She balked at the company that filed in - a large, scarred man, a bird Blade, and a hunched over human.

"Ah good, you're awake." The old man took a step forward. "Your coloring seems to have improved... I wasn't sure Vandham had gotten to you in time. Those flames of yours are quite effective, Lady Brighid."

...what?

The man extended a hand. "Cole. I'm a playwright here in Fonsa Myma, but I dabble in old, natural healing practices."

Mòrag shook his hand. "I have you to thank for this?"

Cole shook his head. "Only partly. That big oaf behind me is Vandham. He and his Blade Roc saved you and brought you to me. Your Blade and I fixed you up just fine."

Mòrag scrutinized the Driver at the back of the room. He was obviously Urayan. "A mercenary?"

Vandham snickered. "That easy to tell, eh?"

"Your scars are quite obvious... and your face is not obscured by those ridiculous helmets your soldiers don."

He let out a deep belly laugh as he approached the woman. "Yer a blunt one, ain't ya? I like that. Rich comin' from you, though, since yer the only Ardainian soldier allowed to show yer pretty little face."

Mòrag felt a smile tug at her lips. There was something about this man she liked.

"Vandham, was it?" He nodded and she stuck out her hand. "I appreciate the assistance."

His large paw dwarfed her hand as they shook. "Don't mention it. Yer not the only one sick of war here."

A commotion suddenly echoed outside the room. Cole quickly excused himself while Brighid sat beside her Driver, gripping her hand and sending waves of warmth through her blood. Just in case they needed to fight...

"Where is she?!"

The door burst open and Vandham and Roc immediately bowed while Mòrag took in the strange appearance of the newcomer. She was a stout woman, with an elaborate Titan-like fin fanned out behind her head. Pebble like markings were embedded in the skin around her orange eyes and a crown was woven through her green hair.

A crown... Queen Raqura!

Mòrag scrambled off the bed and pulled Brighid with her as she sank to one knee with her head bowed.

"Your Majesty." She immediately slipped on her political mask. "You honor me with this unexpected audience."

Queen Raqura stared down at the woman before her. She had never met the young Inquisitor, but she had heard stories... and had met her father during a time when visits to Mor Ardain were not unheard of for Urayan royalty. The resemblance was striking. She frowned at her disheveled appearance... clearly, the report she received had merit.

"Raise your head, Flamebringer." She met Mòrag's questioning gaze. "I believe I owe you an apology."

The Ardainian and her Blade stood, standing silently while the Queen clearly took stock of them with little subtlety.

"Rumor has it that you were ambushed in one of my city's alleyways."

"Yes, Your Majesty. By two Drivers and their Blades."

"I see." The Queen rubbed her chin. "I would have thought Urayan Drivers would be no matter for you, given your reputation."

Mòrag seethed, but Brighid caught on quickly and stepped forward.

"I'm afraid I was incapacitated, Your Majesty."

Raqura glanced at the Blade, but did nothing more to acknowledge her.

"I hope you know that this attack was unsactioned. From the description I've heard, the men who attacked you have been at large for quite some time. They are looking to sell Blades - nothing more."

Mòrag bit back a retort. How could this woman be so cavalier about theives killing Drivers and selling Blades like collector's items? On that principle alone, Niall should refuse to offer any inkling of peace between them.

"Be that as it may, Your Majesty, I hope you understand that I cannot recommend the Emperor attend this meeting you requested." Mòrag folded her arms behind her back. "My assignment was to assess the safety of your capitol. These men desired to steal my Blade and they are still at large. As you well know, His Majesty is a Driver - who is to say these criminals won't be just as keen to steal his?"

Queen Raqura balked - this was precisely what she meant to avoid by coming here.

"Surely you're being a tad hasty." Her eyes pinched in frustration. "You managed to escape even without the use of your Blade. I imagine you'll be even more formidable with Emperor Niall's weapon at your disposal."

The Ardainian cast a glance to Vandham who still had his head bowed. "I only survived due to the valiance of one of your citizens. If you agree to have him serve as the escort, I will reevaluate my recommendation to His Majesty."

That gave Raqura pause. She hasn't heard that part... she followed Mòrag's gaze to the man and Blade behind her. His head was lifted, grey eyes staring widely at the Inquisitor. His dark skin and silver mullet were distinct, but what truly identified him was the X slashed across his face. It had been years since she had seen this man...

"Well I'll be... Aquila Paronet Sol Esteriole, returned at last."

Vandham stood, a scowl clear on his face. "The name's Vandam now, Yer Majesty."

"Still tossing your lineage aside, I see."

He said nothing as the Queen turned back to Mòrag.

"Fine. If this mercenary is all you need to convince the Emperor to attend our meeting, he's yours."

She turned to leave, but just when she was at the doorway, Mòrag called her back.

"Queen Raqura." She waited until their eyes met. "Let me be perfectly clear. It is only by my good graces that what happened here today will not escalate into war."

Brighid placed a stilling hand on her arm, but the Ardainian pushed forward.

"Your people have taken much from my family - they murdered my father and have now made a threat on my life. I have every reason to retaliate. Do not mistake my decision for pacifism. Mor Ardain may have changed leadership, but we remain strong as ever. You are playing a dangerous game."

The Urayan Queen's eyes flashed in defiance. "You have quite the bold tongue, Mòrag Ladair. I see arrogance is an inheritable trait."

"As my father did before me, I will do whatever it takes to defend my country and my leader."

"What happened to your father was a mistake... one I do not intend to have repeated." Raqura sighed heavily. "Tell Niall Ardanach that he will be safe within the city walls and we will make whatever accommodations he desires."

Without another word, the Queen stormed out. Only after Vandham was sure she had fully left the theater did he bend over and slap his knee, letting out a hearty laugh.

"I'll be dammed! I don't think I've ever seen someone stare down the Queen like that. This calls for a drink!" The mercenary walked over and slapped a large paw against her shoulder. "Yer pretty alright... for an Ardainian that is."

Mòrag matched the mirth in his eyes. "I suppose you're a tolerable Urayan."

Brighid merely shook her head as she watched her Driver let down her guard in front of the strange man. Across the room, she met Roc's watchful gaze and sent him a warm smile.

\---

Cole insisted that they stay for lunch, unwilling to let Mòrag be too mobile until he was sure she had healed. They ate a simple meal of grilled meat from the market and, ironically, bread made from Ardainian flour. Once they had their fill, Brighid offered to update the soldiers manning their Titan ship, just in case rumors of the attack had spread. There was no point in letting one of their own do something stupid. Roc chose to accompany her and so their respective Drivers handed over their weapons and watched their Blades make their way to the port.

Once they were out of sight, Mòrag turned, but found Vandham had vanished. She wandered back through the theater and noticed the door to a stairwell was ajar. It led to the upper level balcony, which is where she found the mercenary pounding back another cup of mead.

"Been awhile since I've spent much time 'ere. Usually just come to visit ol' man Cole and then I'm on my way."

Mòrag walked up to stand beside him at the wooden railing.

"Queen Raqura... she called you by another name. From the sound of it, I take it you were someone important."

Vandham laughed as he picked up another glass. "Me? Nah, just some faceless noble. Hard to believe, eh? I was a thinner chap back then."

"What changed?"

"War." He slammed his glass down on the railing. "We've been fightin' each other for decades now. When countries get too big, they start pushin' and shovin' to make more room. Doesn't matter who they stomp on sometimes."

"It's unavoidable when resources are limited."

Vandham cast his eyes at his companion, taking in the serious expression on her face. "I heard what happened to yer father. Damn shame."

Mòrag shook her head. "That was a long time ago."

"Exactly my point." He rubbed a calloused hand over his chin. "When he was killed, your government slammed us with sanctions. Trade was cut off, food became scarce. Lot of people were angry... angry at those that had some when they had nothing..."

"Vandham?"

"My wife and child were killed by some beggar." His eyes clouded over. "I can't blame 'im. He had his own family - a starvin' lot he was tryin' to feed. My wife was buying meat from the market... and he... they never saw it comin'."

Mòrag sighed as she ran a hand over her face. What could she possibly say to that?

"I didn't know yer father, but the death of my family was tied to his... because no matter what we do, we can't escape the war. The storm goes on around us and even if we try to get out, we still get caught."

"Is that why you gave up your title?"

"Being the last living member of the Paronet family means bull. I inherit a boatload 'o money, but still can't protect the people I care about. That's why I left." Vandham sighed as he stretched his arms over his head. "Took my money and set up a village just out that way. Garfont - a safe haven for those who need protection and those lookin' to protect. Course I didn't know what the Hell I was doin' at first. That big scar on my face is proof for ya, but I've got some good folks out there now. I like to think I'm doin' their memory proud, ya know?"

Mòrag nodded, her eyes cast downward as she thought back on her own choices.

"We're not all that different." Vandham placed a firm hand on her unarmored shoulder. "War's taken a lot from both of us."

"True... and we've both forsaken our birthright for what we believe in."

The Urayan smiled. "Given up yer claim to the throne, huh? Looks like it turned out for you alright."

"You seem to know quite a bit about me."

"Not every day Mor Ardain almost gets an Empress."

Mòrag let out a soft chuckle. "I suppose not, however, our Imperial line always passes from father to son. There was no argument when His Majesty was born. It's of no concern to me, really. I'm merely grateful I had the privilege to resonate with Brighid. When the opportunity arose, I volunteered to trade in my claim to the throne for the chance to protect my leader."

"You've got a noble heart in there, Ladair."

"As do you... Aquila Paronet Sol Esteriole."

The large man nearly fell over in laughter.

Mòrag crossed her arms, trying to bite back a smirk. As much as she was enjoying this banter, there was something starting to gnaw at her.

"Vandham..."

"Uh oh - you've suddenly gone serious on me."

The Ardainian nodded. "I wanted to apologize for volunteering you. I realize now that serving the Queen so directly-"

"Nah, think nothin' of it."

"Are you certain?"

The Urayan smiled and stuck out his hand. "Consider it a favor among friends."

Mòrag matched his grin as she firmly shook his hand. "Who would have thought an Urayan and Ardainian would be standing on the same side?"

"Gotta start somewhere!"

\---

The last they saw if each other was when Emperor Niall arrived in Fonsa Myma. Mòrag and Brighid stood at the front, ready to greet their leader as he and Aegaeon stepped off the ship. Behind the Inquisitor and her Blade were Vandham and Roc, heads bowed with respect. The sight made Niall grin - his sister had clearly made progress working through her long-standing disdain for their rivals.

Before the Ardainian delegation was set to return home, they exchanged gifts. Vandham and Roc were presented with metal carvings of the royal family crest, which would grant them access to Hardhaigh Palace should they ever choose to visit. Vandham handed Mòrag a dagger he forged with the emblem of the Garfont mercenaries etched into the hilt. Roc passed along a few glass vials of Titan Oil handcream, laughing when Brighid nearly squealed with joy. He had seen her eyeing it during their earlier strole through the market.

They promised to meet again, but only a few years later, rumors that the Aegis had awakened from her 500 year slumber began... and then Vandham was gone. Mòrag only realized what had happened when she saw a famimiar Blade in Rex's company.

\---

While Roc had no memory of his previous Driver, his curiosity eventually won the better of him.

Along their journey, they found themselves called to Garfont Village. It was the first time Mòrag and Brighid had seen the place their friend had called home. It was quaint, with tents set up for sleeping quarters, but people seemed happy enough. After dealing with whatever administrative strife Yew and Zuo had called Rex for, the fellowship made their way toward Fonsa Myma.

"Rex, are you certain you would like Brighid and I to accompany you?" The young salvager gave her a curious glance. "Whatever business you have here might be easier to settle without us. We're not particularly welcome here."

"Nah, it's fine." He grinned as he patted Mòrag's arm. "We're just passin' through, really."

"Oh?"

"Roc wants to see Vandham's grave... it's up at the Olethro Ruins."

Mòrag peered over at Brighid and nodded with gratitude when the Blade offered a soothing arm around her waist.

"We'll join you... I would very much like to pay my respects to your fallen comrade."

His grave marker was simple, light stone with his name and day of death carved into it. Fitting for a man who had given up his life of luxury. Roc kneeled before it as he whispered his thanks to his fallen Driver - thanks for the meaningful life he had been told they lived.

When Roc stood, Rex made to leave, but paused when he noticed his Ardainian companion was not with them. Mòrag was kneeling at the grave, hat off and over her heart. 

"Hello, my friend. I apologize that we are forced to meet this way. I should have come sooner..." Mòrag closed her eyes. "I want you to know we stopped them. Those Core Crystal Hunters... they've been brought to justice. I chose to reawaken their Blades. Praxis and Theory. They both decided to join your mercenary troupe earlier today."

She ran a gloved hand over his name.

"Your legacy lives on, Vandham. And I'll do everything in my power to see that it continues."

Rex turned a questioning eye to Brighid as the Inquisitor stood and adjusted her hat.

"They knew each other?"

The Blade nodded. "He saved her life once. They were quite fond of each other, short though their friendship happened to be."

The boy gaped in shock. "Didn't expect that... Morag being Ardainian and all..."

The Flamebringer cleared her throat as she approached them, meeting Roc's studying eyes before peering over her shoulder at the grave.

"As a brave man once told me, you have to start somewhere."


End file.
